19 Dec Frozen Bubbles and Impossibilities
Autumn House Press received it’s shipment of books from the press and called to ask how many books I’d like to order.
I have no idea.
There are 48 books per box. I buy them at 40% off sticker price. So at $10.77 per book, each box costs me $516.96. If I order four boxes, I get 192 books. Can I sell 192 books? If I order 5 boxes, I get 240 books.
It’s all a dark mystery to me. How many should I buy? Will people buy from me or from Amazon? Will people come to a book signing? Do I want hundreds of my own books stacked in my basement for the next decade? What if I order too few? What if I order too many?
Some days I ask myself, “Why was it that I decided to become a writer?”
On those days, I think about blowing bubbles in my garage when it is minus 30 degrees. The bubbles freeze and float on air, heavy as words. I cup them in my hands. Impossible. But there they are, perched on my palm.
Being a writer seems like that to me today. Like a frozen bubble. Impossible. Delicate. Beautiful.
Four boxes of books have shipped and are on their way to my house. Soon I will hold them in my hand. Ten years ago, this was my impossible dream. I stand back and hold it and yet it still seems like it can’t be real.
Wishing you all very Happy Holidays: may you hold your dreams in the New Year.
PHOTO: frozen bubble, North Dakota, on a COLD January Day